The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-06-01

on controlling his emotions. walked cnce
across the room and back Then be stopped
and remarked merely:
@You don't tel me!7
81 have written him, continued Shirley.
SHe viii be here tomorrow.
The young man nleiitated- Then he said,
kindly and eondescendingly.
~on the whole, think III acknowledge
him.
Miss Simpkins was very i'll 4 messenger
came TO say that it was the one desire of her
heart to see Shirley. Faithful as always,
forgetfui of herself, remembering others,
Shirley went It was a gray, chilly after
noon. Sha who had been ministering angel
70 SO many sbivered from head to foot as she
crossed the threshold Of home again, passing
out Of the cold and darkness into the warmth
and light
When Shirley came home, Miss Sfmpkins
was dead Her last look had been turned to
Shirley's face; she passed into the eternal
silence holding Shirley's hand It seemed To
comfort her But Shirley was unduly shaken
The years Of te1lsely strained life had worn on
the fine strong organization moro than aT-
peared.
She was cold all through. and could not
get warm The glazing eyes Of the dying
woman seemed TO follow her, and fix them
selves upon hers, turn which way she would
It was foolish, nervous impression, but She
could not shake It or Presently, her teeth
chartered, and she shook all over. She was
in a chill She sighed and Said
Il am cold and tired / am all gone %
pieces
Next morning sho had fever But it oc-
= on
i'll, and needed looking after Il had always
been Shirley who looked after the rest
In the afternoon, Philip Dumoray came.
Master and pupil were together at last,
with none TO come betweeni
When he came, Shirley lay languidly
across by the fire, upon ono of the low
couches where her mother had spent years
Of ornamental invalidism
1t happened that none were by 70 question
the strangeness Of his sudden arrival Ho
lifted Shirley in his arms without a word,
and held her in mighty embrace Only
death could take her from him nows
But of that hour of meeting, no record
more than this viii ever be made.
After time she slipped softly from his
grasp and lay back again upon her mothers
low couch Her hand was clasped in his.
smile of gladness hovered about her ewes and
mouth.
The door opened, and Robert Dumorav
came and stood beside them Shirley turned
from one to the other with the sweet bright
look in her face She had never looked 81
beautiful, both OF them thought
you have seen Robert she said to the
master. ~He is the dearest To me of all tha
brothers. and he is your SON
She undid her fingers from tho masters
clasp, and took Roberts hand and laid it
softly where hers had been. SO they stood
with clasped hands, father and son. Shirley
laid her own hot, quivering hand upon their
two, her eyes turned upward 10 their faces,
still with the look of ineffable love and JOY.
Her face was the face of an angel.
Then her eyes closed, her fingers slipped
away and fell across her breast, her breath
came in quick gasps. Both men, father and
son, sprang toward her. An unearthly fear
compressed the masters heart.
"Good Godln said he, "she is ill.,
She opened her eyes and smiled faintIy
back at him. Then she rallied and came to
herself again She lay there, with her cheek
against his hand. and the look of a great,
sweet content in her face Indeed. it was the
face of one who had not an earthly wish left
to be gratified.
ayes" said Robert, "Shirley is not wen.
"She is saint and martyr, if there ever
was one on earth. But she shan't work any
more. l shall work for her from this ON.
When she gets better I'm going to take her
away, across the water to England with
Brownie and me. Shirley is ours, nowp
"No," said his father, SHIRLEY is mner
But in the morning all these thoughts were
swallowed up in one supreme fear. She who
had never been i'll in her life lay faint and
low and well nigh breathless
cbauoa had fydaa1 .,,,r,a - GI,,rf,,-
Love, tender care, rest, hope, the brightest
hopes, all had come at last. Had they come
too latei
Word went abroad that Shirley was dying.
Shirley, the well beloved Once more, even
as when Col Carstone was stricken, a throng
pressed about the doors of the stone house
Men and women and little children, the poor
and the lowly and the weak, came TO the
stone house and went away weeping and say
ing:
"We are losing our best friendIn
Within its walls Brownie, the wayward,
the self-indulgent and light of thought, flung
herself down and wept most bitterly of all.
Into the blameless, marvellous life bad
passed the music eff the poem which Shirley
had never written.
One by ono the friends who were the nearest
crept with awe stricken faces to the room with
the western windows out OF which Shirley
had gazed so often and so wearily, and longed
to fly away and follow the sun in his fight.
Shirley knew them all The clear, grent
brain never lost itself But most of all her
syes turned wearily toward the sky where
the western sun was going down. Clouds Of
gold and purple, Of crimson and opal lay all
along the way, like unto the opening of tho
gates of the celestial city.
She turned her eyes back upon her dear
ones. Her glance wandered amoment, then
fixed itself on little locked ebony box, Of
quaint, antique workmanship. IL had been
her fathers.
"Bring that" she said 10 Harry
She gave it into the hands Of Philip Du-
moray. She spoke family and with diff
Guilty
"There are some papers" she said to the
master.
The old doctor was beside her, dumb witha
grief that not all his long years Of profes-
sional training could control Tho Presby
terian minister was there He was very aged
now, and trembling and shadow like He was
her faithful friend. For twenty years they
two had been brave comrades in good works.
Was he TO be left alone nowi
His wavering fingers stroked the long,
shining hair as it lay loose across the pillow,
they rested in benediction upon her dying
head. Unconsci0usly he murmured the bless
inc of bravf. old John Huuyan.